have you told her lately?it is not monday and there is no monday depression no hollow bed for me to sink like a ship inside its blue sheetshave you told her lately?
there is no water but still an ocean birds with whom i must still contend
do you know what it's like
to wear real scars amongst the false? the ring of countenance unbearable but you are so lovely, did you know? did you know that i will never know anything worth knowing, i will never believe you when you love me, never understand why you'd like to remember me
i am a false feeling, metastatic like cancer a faded poe
reason no. 9:you like my thoughts because they are noisy and will hold your face between their fingers so that you will listen,reason no. 9:
they will kiss you slowly and it will almost be like a poison, a fever sending the mercury sky-high and just aching to be heard
muscles tight and unyielding, something in the tilt of the hips or curve of the shins, wearing the cuts on the prettier skins
the savage wind berating the window, i am that pane of glass, the crumbling sill with blue paint in a pile at its feet
i am exactly what i shouldn't be, &nbs
i don't want your hearti want to let go, but just don't know how to.i don't want your heart
that tug in my heartstrings' still scream ing your name.
it may scream but it has the wrong melody.
you and i never were anything more than a harsh cacophony.
and yet you allow your heartstrings to scream aloud, i want to know why?
i can't stop feeling, i can't stop thinking, i can not stop loving you.
you're loving something that is worthless and that'll never love you back.
your heart is what the stars are made of; i
fuck yeah, halloween"you look like hell."fuck yeah, halloween
"that's because i am hell."
"right. what's wrong?"
"well, i am coughing and it tastes like blood- it's halloween so i don't mind too much, i get to pretend i'm a vampire; i am very tired, i realised that my eyebrows are uneven, and my heart is made of styrofoam- of all materials!"
"oh, shit. that...wow. are you going to the doctor's?"
"for what?"
"the cough, you know?"
"isn't it more pressing that my heart, my damned heart is made of styrofoam? God, i've always loved digging my nails into those styrofoam cups, loved the feeling of
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